Always With You
by FeeBe
Summary: Lily spends her afterlife with Harry. She's not the only one. Trick or Treat Challenge- Dumbledores- 10.(au) Afterlife.


"Avada Kedavra!"

They were the last words she heard in the living world. In some ways this was a relief. It ensured that all her preparations were not for naught, the hours of study, of research, of hiding books from her husband. Not that she would have been repentant if he had caught her out, after all there was only one thing that matter, and he would agree with her on this even if he disagreed with her methods. None of it mattered as long as Harry lived.

Even as her soul was extruded from her body, she was already fighting to turn spectral eyes onto her son. Then something happened that she did not anticipate.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The spell was cast through her spectral form. A spell designed to move a soul and move her soul it did, forcing her towards her son. Well this wasn't in the plan!

An hour later she, surprisingly, recovered from the blackness that the second killing curse had caused, to find her soul imbedded in another being. She was not alone! Sure, there was the baby consciousness that was her son, though she supposed he was a toddler now that he was walking, but there was another. The 'other' was quiet but that did not mean that she could not detect its….no _his_ presence.

It would be months before the 'other' spoke, after it happened, she really wished he hadn't. For some inexplicable reason Albus 'the git' Dumbledore had decided that her precious boy was to be sent to Petunia, not to any one of the other half dozen people that she and James had listed as potential guardians in the, well quite likely it was war after all, event of their demise. Lily had at first hoped that her sister would be able to see passed the falling out they had had the last time they had met, but now six months later it was clear that wasn't to be. On the up-side Harry was coming along in leaps and bounds under his Mother's guidance and gentle encouragement.

He had initially been distraught and had cried none stop, but eventually he seemed to be able to hear (maybe hear wasn't the right word, feel? Possibly) or detect her maternal presence and he calmed. Unfortunately, by this time, Petunia under the direction of her Husband, Vernon, had relegated Harry to cupboard under the stairs.

It was a bright sunny Saturday that first day that the 'other' spoke. The Dursley family were out in the back garden, where Petunia had spread a picnic blanket for Dudley to play on. He had his Toys spread out in front of him and was rolling a ball back and forth with his Mother. Harry was sitting quietly on a corner of the blanket stacking blocks. An inadvertent push of the ball led to Harry 's Tower being knocked over. Harry began to stack the blocks again.

'This one is red Harry, this one is blue,' the voice inside of him spoke.

Dudley it seemed had liked to see the blocks fall and sent the ball rolling across to knock them down again. Harry huffed quietly and began stacking once more. He must have seen Dudley receive the ball again and again push it in order to knock down the tower. The ball veered suddenly left away from the pile of blocks.

"Oh well done Harry," she praised, wrapping him in all the warmth and love she could muster. She knew this that the response in the physical world was not going to be pleasant.

Dudley burst into tears, Petunia was apoplectic, Vernon was livid. The maternal voice in his head was praising Harry

"What do you think you are doing Boy!" the red-faced man spat.

"You're a freak just like your parents," Petunia scolded. "How dare you stop Dudder's game."

Harry blinked green eyes up at them. It was very hard to understand what was going on. He just wanted to play with the blocks. The voice in his head was telling him he was special and clever, but Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were yelling and loud. He couldn't cope with it anymore so he did what any overwhelmed toddler would do and burst into tears.

"Muma, muma, Mummy!"

"Be quiet!" Vernon thundered. Which had quite the opposite affect on the small boy and he cried even harder. Vernon grabbed Harry by the arm. Lifting him and half carried- half dragged him into the house. Just outside the door to his cupboard, Vernon placed the boy back on his feet and bent over as far as he could, his red face looking down on the tear stained face.

"There will be none of that freakishness in my house. Get in your cupboard and stay there!" Harry turned to the cupboard.

Smack. A firm hand came down hard on the boy's backside, making him jump forwards into the space under the stairs.

"Let that be a lesson to you." The door clicked shut with a snap, which was followed by the sliding home of the bolt on the outside of the door.

'Horrible Mudblood!' the 'other' spoke for the first time.

Harry sniffled.

'You could do something about it you know,' it continued. 'Hurt him, make him pay.'

Harry was confused, he didn't need any money why should he make Vernon pay?

'Humf, they are frightened,' his first voice argued. 'If you can control it then they won't be so worried,' she assured him.

Through out the years Harry wondered if he should tell someone about the voices that lived in his head. He always decided that he was already enough of a freak and didn't want any more attention, thank you very much. So, he kept it to himself.

As he grew, he found some of the arguments to be quite amusing. The male voice- or bear as Harry called him, (a name born from the voices continuous grizzling, he had been four when he had bestowed the name) had mellowed a bit over the years though was still of the mind that some sort of retribution was due to the Dursleys. The other voice- Angel, always disagreed, especially after she had discovered the wards that encircled the home, the last thing he need was to be thrown out. Bear had made Harry go out to the yard especially so he could investigate the wards and, in the end, had no choice but to agree with Angle.

It was not until Harry was twelve that he received his first clue about Bear's true identity. At the end of the school year, Dumbledore had told him that Voldemort had transferred some of his power to Harry and Harry began to wonder.

But Bear had changed even further in the two years since Harry had come to Hogwarts, there were less arguments with Angel as both tried to keep the boy safe. They that encouraged to Harry to advise McGonagall that there was going to be an attempt to steal the Philosopher's stone and they that advised him to take a teacher down to the Chamber of Secrets (though they hadn't been too impressed with his choice). In turn they were both disillusioned with the adults of the Wizarding world, though Bear did say that he hadn't expected anything more from a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher that Dumbledore had expected and where had the old man been through out it all anyway. Flying to the ministry, in first year. Why hadn't he taken the floo? Why hadn't the school been closed long before Ginny was taken? Why were there no inspections? Dumbledore had been at the school the first time that the Basilisk had gotten loose.

It was Third year before Harry knew who Angel was. Half a minute with a dementor.

"Not Harry!" That voice, the voice that had lived in his head for as long as he could remember. The voice that had comforted him in the long, lonely days and nights in his cupboard. That coached him through the lessons he had missed at school because he was locked in his cupboard. When he heard that voice from his first living memory his heart was torn from his chest. His Angel indeed!

Kings Cross Station looked very odd in its clean white state. The homunculus that was Bear lay on the floor and Harry didn't know what to do. Dumbledore had come and said his piece and disappeared again in his typical fashion leaving Harry on the platform. He knew that he had to go back there was no question about it, but he was a bit scared to face a world in which he was the only person in his head. And Bear was just lying there on the floor, weeping, just as Harry had lain in the cupboard. He knelt down and picked up the little body cradling it like it was precious.

"It's ok Harry," her voice came from behind him. Harry wept, her arms encircled both the man-child and the body he carried. She was silent to give him space to grieve. When his tears had subsided, she continued, "You have been so incredibly brave my son."

"What can we do for him? I don't want to leave him alone."

She nodded, "It's okay Harry. I will take him with me."

"Is this goodbye?" Harry asked in a small voice.

She smiled, "Only for a while. I'll still be there watching." She reached over and relieved him of his burden. "Just remember we love you."

And Harry opened his eyes.


End file.
